


Live, Laugh, Love

by nothing_special



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Embarrassment, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Gestures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-22 10:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19665169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_special/pseuds/nothing_special
Summary: Aziraphale decides to hang up a new piece of decor. Crowley laughs, Gabriel mocks, Aziraphale takes it down.It reappears.





	Live, Laugh, Love

**Author's Note:**

> I had a thought one night, at three in the morning: Aziraphale unironically thinks live laugh love signs are cute. What was going to be a shitpost quickly began to transform into a fic idea, and, well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing!

“Ey, uh, ‘s this right here? New décor?”

“Oh, this sign here? Quite wonderful, isn’t it? Just a bit of a reminder for those who come in to browse!” Aziraphale straightens out the already perfect little piece of décor, smiling up at it. He’d gotten it recently when out shopping. The nice saleswoman had told him that it would add a nice touch to any room, and thus far, Aziraphale agrees. Crowley cracks a grin, shaking his head as a small huff escapes him. He circles around Aziraphale, all the while studying his expression.

“’S a bit cheesy, isn’t it? _‘Live, Laugh, Love'_ Like something you’d find in your grandmother’s house,” he snickers softly, “I mean—If we had grandmothers, that is.” Aziraphale frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. Certainly, he must look like a pouty child at the moment, but he doesn’t really care.

“It is not! It adds a nice touch to the room! Makes it feel like more of a home.”

“Since when do you want the shop to feel home-y? The damp smell finally tire you? I told you that you should’ve just opened up some sort of library instead of makin' the place intolerable, but you—”

“Oh, will you stop it?” Aziraphale huffs, promptly turning away from Crowley. The latter’s frown, though not visible to him, is prominent in his words.

“Oh, come on, angel, don’t get that halo of yours in a twist.” Crowley makes an attempt at circling back around to face him, only for Aziraphale to turn away once more. “You’re acting like a child, you know.”

“I do know, thank you very much! You, however, are being very rude!”

“I’m not! I’m just telling you the truth! And the truth is, that its _cheesy_ as all hell.” Aziraphale huffs at his words, still not turning to face him. He can hear Crowley sigh as he wraps his arms around him, his hands clasped over his belly. His face feels warm, and its hard not to lean back into his touch. “Its cheesy as hell,” Crowley whispers into his ear, “Just like you. ’S why I like it, really. ‘Cause it reminds me of you.” Aziraphale can’t help but smile now, finally letting himself lean into Crowley’s touch.

“Of course you try to charm your way out of this, you serpent, you.” The tone in his voice doesn’t match the words quite right, making it clear that he’s forgiven Crowley. Claiming his victory, Crowley presses a kiss to his neck, grinning against his skin afterwards. Aziraphale snorts softly, playfully pushing his face away.

“What? No kisses for your favorite demon?” Crowley laughs softly, taking a step back. Aziraphale turns to face him, standing on his tip toes as he wraps his arms around Crowley’s neck.

“Who says you’re my favorite demon?” A teasing tone works its way into Aziraphale’s words, making Crowley gasp in mock surprise.

“Well, who else could it be? Surely you haven’t been out planning to stop the apocalypse with one of those other buggers?” He asks, pulling Aziraphale closer by the hips.

“Why of course not! It just so happens that I haven’t decided who my favorite is just yet…Hastur perhaps? Beelzebub, maybe?” Aziraphale grins, tilting his head as he bumps noses with Crowley, who looks quite flabbergasted. “Who knows?”

“H-Hastur?! Six thousand years for you to tell me you favor Hastur?”

“Or Beelzebub,” Aziraphale corrects.

“Or _Beelzebub_!” Crowley takes a step back, throwing his hands into the air and making Aziraphale giggle. “Bloody demons, always catching an angel’s eye.”

“Well…I suppose that they haven’t caught my eye as much as you have…”

“That mean I’m your favorite?”

“Of course it does, dear.” Aziraphale closes the distance between them, pulling Crowley towards him by his hips. Their lips meet in a brief kiss, one that’s interrupted by the soft jingle of a bell. Aziraphale’s eyes widen almost comically as he motions for Crowley to leave. He can feel his energy, powerful and unwavering—almost as powerful as his own. It’s Gabriel, and he’s here to check up on him. Crowley seems to sense him as well, for he wastes no time in leaving the bookshop, likely dropping himself off at his flat. Aziraphale will have to worry about making it up to him later. Until then…

“Aziraphale! Hello?” Gabriel’s voice pipes up from the front of the shop, prompting Aziraphale to hurry to him with a smile. Silently, he thanks his Lord for the fact that the rest of the angels aren’t nearly as skilled at reading expressions as he is. If he was, it certainly wouldn’t be long until he found out that something was wrong.

“Ah, hello, hello! I didn’t think that you’d be stopping in today. Wasn’t that supposed to be tomorrow?” His words prompt a smile from Gabriel, who holds his hand out to shake. Aziraphale takes his hand in his own, giving it a firm shake before letting it drop to his side.

“I thought that I would stop early, just to get it out of the way. It’s not like you’ve ever really needed to be checked up on.” He smiles widely, already making his way to the back of the shop. “We have many matters to discuss despite that fact, and we should do it privately. There may not be anyone in the shop right now, but someone could step in at any moment.”

“Ah, yes, you’re quite right, Gabriel. There could always be a spy lurking. We can certainly never be too safe.” Aziraphale follows along, his hands folded neatly in front of him as they finally enter the confines of the back room. “So about the purpose that this visit serves—”

“Do humans usually own this type of ridiculous décor?” Gabriel's eyes scan Aziraphale’s wall, landing perfectly upon where the small wooden decoration is hung. He traces two fingers along it’s surface, turning to look at him with a raised brow. Aziraphale feels himself flush pink as he struggles to come up with an answer.

“Well I—I wouldn’t call it ridiculous! Humans find such decorations to be quite welcoming.”

“But 'Live, Laugh, Love'? Certainly clever word play, but do they really live by those three rules? Unless that love and that life is going to the Lord, then I don’t see the point. And the laughing, well, humans give far too much priority to their own happiness, don’t they?”

“Oh, well, yes, I suppose I agree. I, um, I only have it up to make the place a bit more welcoming! You know, for those who enter to enjoy.” Aziraphale sputters, glad to see that Gabriel seems to believe him.

“In that case, you should have it on display in the other room, don’t you think? A perfect place for the horrendously clever thing.”

“Ah, of course. I shall move it there at once!” Aziraphale smiles, and doesn’t have the heart to say that it’s not for anyone else—its for him.  
\--  
“Hey, angel?” Crowley scrunches up his nose at the bare wall before him, studying the area where a small wooden sign had once hung. He looks back towards where Aziraphale is reading, and gestures towards it. “What happened to that sign? 'Live, Laugh, Love'?” He asks, only to receive silence. “I said, what happened to the—”

“I threw it away,”

“You _what_?”

“I threw it _away_.” Aziraphale sighs as he sets his book aside. Crossing one leg over the other, he rests his neatly folded hands over them. “Gabriel said it was—” Crowley laughs.

“So we’re listening to Gabriel now?” he shakes his head, “You loved that corny thing.”

“I don’t anymore. It’s embarrassing.” Aziraphale says very matter-of-factly. “You and Gabriel made that very clear.” In a matter of seconds, Crowley’s grin has vanished from sight, replaced with a frown.

“Oh, angel, I didn’t really make you feel bad about that sign, did I?” The silence that he gets in return is enough to make him groan, dragging his hand down his face. “Bloody hell, I—That sign is great, alright Aziraphale? You like it, so it’s fantastic.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I promise you I’m not.”

“I shan’t believe you!”

“Angel—”

“Not until you seal that promise with a kiss.” Even as Crowley slinks into his lap and presses kiss after kiss onto his lips, cheeks, and neck, Aziraphale still doesn’t have the heart to believe him. Even so, he can still pretend to, especially if it means he gets showered in kisses. He didn’t like that sign all that much anyway.

Except he did.  
\--  
Approximately three days after ridding the shop of the sign, Aziraphale walks into the room and finds that it’s been put back. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he rather quickly determines who the culprit is. After a few rings of his cellphone, said culprit picks up.

“Good afternoon, angel. Are you missing me? Bit early to call, isn’t it?” Crowley’s drowsy words spill out of the speaker, making Aziraphale scoff.

“Anthony J Crowley it is _twelve 'o clock!_ ” He scolds, “We don’t even need to sleep, so you certainly shouldn’t be _oversleeping_.” With a sigh (and a wave of his hand that Crowley can’t see) he dismisses the thought. “Never mind that. I’ll scold you about it another day. I’m calling about the piece of décor you put up in my shop!”

“Décor? Doesn’t sound familiar to me.” Crowley yawns, the sound of him shifting in bed loud enough to come through the speakers. Aziraphale scoffs, free hand already reaching to remove the offending object.

“Don’t play the fool, you slithering serpent, you! I know that you put it back up.”

“When in the world would I have done that? Do you really think that I would go around doing that?” There’s an incredulous tone in Crowley’s voice, one that has Aziraphale doubting himself.

“Oh, well, I—”

“Don’t have enough evidence to prove that it was me.” A soft click of Crowley’s tongue makes Aziraphale roll his eyes.

“I suppose that you’re right. I will, however, be disposing of this at once!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever makes you happy, angel. 'M goin' back to bed.”

“It is midday, Crowley! Aren’t you going to do something pr—”

“Alright, I love you, angel, bye!” Aziraphale is hardly able to process Crowley’s words before the line goes dead. With a sigh, he pockets his phone, taking the sign before him in his hands. He stares at it longingly. It really is a clever sign. It’s with an embarrassingly heavy heart that Aziraphale deposits said sign into the trash can next to his desk. Well, at the very least he won’t be made fun of by his peers.  
\--  
Approximately two days after taking the sign down for the second time, Crowley shows up at the bookshop.

“Another sign, Crowley?” Aziraphale sighs, arms crossed as Crowley presents a much larger, and certainly much fancier version of the 'Live, Laugh, Love' sign he’d had before. It has six sides, the ends of the two longest ones tapering off in a sort of trapezoidal shape; three sides on each tapered end. It looks as if it’s been meticulously crafted and hand painted, the lettering neat and legible. There are thin painted vines framing the words in the middle, and the 'o' on the word 'Love' has been replaced with a heart. Golden brown twine serves as a form of hanging it on the wall, it’s braided strands perfect in every way. Oh, it’s absolutely lovely.

“You still have no proof that it was me last time, angel.” Crowley hands the sign to Aziraphale, shoving his now unoccupied hands into his pockets. Even with his sunglasses covering his eyes, Aziraphale can tell that he’s avoiding his gaze. A few moments pass as he studies the sign in his hand, running his thumb over the smooth wood.

“Crowley you know I can’t take this, it’s—”

“Embarrassing? Corny? Ridiculous, even?”

“Well—”

“Its only one of those things, angel, and it’s certainly not a bad thing to be.” Crowley sighs. “Plus,” He shifts on his feet. “You can’t throw it away, it’s a gift. A gift that I made myself.” Aziraphale looks up from the object in his hands, eyes sparkling with surprise and delight.

“You…You made it yourself? For me?” A smile begins to grace his features, his eyes scanning over the sign once more before flicking back up to Crowley. “Oh, my dear, it’s lovely…”

“Yeah, yeah, I just—” Crowley tugs on the collar of his shirt, still averting his gaze. “I saw that you really liked that cheesy sign of yours and couldn’t just let you throw it away. I know you’re far too polite to go around throwing away gifts, so…” he trails off, motioning towards the decoration.

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale’s voice comes out almost breathless, the sign nearly forgotten as he puts it aside. He steps towards him, taking his hands into his own and pressing a kiss to the back of each one. “You are the kindest being I have ever known,” he speaks fondly, smile growing brighter as Crowley flushes.

“'S no big deal,” Crowley says, and Aziraphale knows what he really means.

_You’re, welcome, angel._

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @miguelleonardo !!!  
> If you enjoy, please bookmark, share, leave kudos, and comment! Love spreads a writer's work around, after all!


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